PeRfEcTiOn
by Viny88
Summary: They say that when you love someone,you love them for their imperfections,but what of a being who has none?Set in the world's last moments,when there is no more time.It's Armageddon...B/V
1. Default Chapter

Perfection  
  
She was the heiress to the largest, and by far, the wealthiest corporation in the world. She was Bulma Briefs- Vice President of Capsule Corporation, owner of a brand new red Ferrari, and lover to Tokyo's cutest stud. Simply enough, she had everything! With the brains of a genius, and the body of a goddess, women envied her seemingly flawless complexion, whilst men admired her pronounced curves. Did I mention her wonderful boyfriend? Her life consisted of purchasing the latest fashions and dining at the most extravagant restaurants to inventing the newest high-tech gadget. At the age of three-and-twenty, Bulma was at an exceedingly good advantage. What more could she ask for?  
  
Yet, one fateful day turned her world upside down, and that was an understatement. Bulma would soon learn that she had the misfortune of being caught in the end of times. It was Armageddon!  
  
-and she was left behind...  
  
* * * * * *  
  
They say that when you love somebody, you love them for their imperfections...loving them for who they are.  
  
-but what about somebody who had none?  
  
He was the most beautiful being ever created by God, and whether it be by Holy Graces or from elements unknown, it was true. He was perfection!... but that very perfection is what led to his condemnation. Perfection turned out to be a curse, and a fatal one at that. Fatal--- you ask? Despite what that damning word implies, this being of which I speak is still very much existent, but 'twas his heart that died that wretched day.  
  
His rightful name was Lucifer, Arch Angel of the celestial Heavens, and loved by many...but those days are far-gone. Though many take pleasure in calling him Satan, Un-Holy One, Prince of Darkness- and numerous other foolish human prattle- he was Vegeta, ruler of the damned.  
  
Did he mention that he was damned along with 1/3 of the population of celestial beings-angels, if you must, though he was loath to utter the foul word--? No? Okay, well he was, and that populace was out of billions... need he elaborate? It wasn't his fault that the idiotic beings rallied with him, no, it was there fault that they were vulnerable to his hypnotic presence.  
  
Ever since that humiliating day, Vegeta had been downcast into, considering there isn't any light way to put it, hell. Otherwise known, as Earth. Yes, you read right- Earth. And, no, there aren't two. He, along with the countless others, had occupied the mud-ball for eons, it seemed, until another creation suddenly disturbed his way of life.  
  
Humans were born.  
  
Thus, the beginning of revenge began. Though he hardly could say being a serpent was enjoyable, creating the original sin was a delectable treat. Obviously, the Holy One learned from his mistake, Vegeta had thought whilst tempting the unknowing pair of beings. For those creatures, those beings of flesh, were vulnerable, and they were weak.  
  
They were imperfect.  
  
Though Vegeta remained a part of the spiritual realm of Earth, he had watched the centuries stretch, and had been the culprit of many downfalls. What, did you think the Roman Empire was self-destructive? With him in the middle of it, it was.  
  
But now, it was the final rebuke of his down casting...it was Armageddon!  
  
And it was time for his finale--- and he had the perfect pawn for his plan.  
  
...Vegeta just never suspected the wish to be able to love again.  
  
**********  
  
Hello everyone, as you can see I've got a plot forming in my head, but at the moment I'm indecisive as to whether I shall actually act on my idea. Hence, the reason I have posted this short introduction to my un-official story, Perfection. I'm slightly worried that the story line is offensive, thus, am seeking you're opinion. What do you think? Should I write it--- toss it? Either leave a review stating your opinion, whether it be in the positive or negative, or email me at Viny88_CSJ@hotmail.com  
  
Thank you all for your time, C.M.S 


	2. Chapter 2

****For all my wonderful fans that fueled my passion for writing and were there at the start of my career as a writer, I'd like to introduce you to my first novel! You can read more at .com/ Thank you all so much for your support and for giving me the courage to aspire to reach for my dreams*****

The night shadows crept over the horizon like an ebony canvas, sweeping across the lands with its phantom limbs, foreshadowing the tumult that was imminent. The coming day was eclipsed by a dark magic long left sleeping, swallowing the light in its unforgiving possession. Melancholy winds shuffled through the silence of doom, like poison its transparent fingertips meeting flesh for the first time in over a thousand years, reaching to the souls of all that had forgotten; murmuring in their vulnerable ears. The world became desolate and cold, abated by its worst fear… the end of times. It had begun.

It was the end of the light.

The tarnished hearts of the condemned shifted restlessly in their hollow cages, woken by the beckoning of their master's call. Murmurs broke through the shield that had imprisoned him and caressed the ears of all the beings of the world, silken threads of sound that whispered sweet serenity even within the chaos, voices so soft that all strained to hear, endearing them all to the angelic sound, the whimsical vibrations that echoed from a mouth they knew not. Promises- it knew them all, granting priceless gifts to appease all the desires, all the appetites, and all the power.

Truculent oceans quaked from the velvety caress of the voice, leading the untamed waters to crash upon the shoreline, altering the sands until surrendered to its clutches. The farthest reaches of the seas, deep with the crevices of its unfathomable levels, shifted restlessly until lava spewed forth from its opened heart. Blood red magma never hardened from the waters meet, heated by the voice that still echoed throughout the universe. Lightning ripped through the skies, scorching the ground with its angry electricity as thunder echoed its fury and the sirens that were born of the skies wailed. Their tears drenched all the worlds, their cries making millions crumble to their knees and grasp the ears to drown out the horrendous sound.

A cynical grin spliced his lips, curving slowly with the sweet anticipation of revenge. The cornerstone of his power had been revived; he could feel its presence beckoning him, taunting him with how close it was to his grasp. He listened to the thoughts of the underlings that now wandered these worlds, their vain attempts to soothe their woes. The echoes of his titles made him laugh mirthlessly; the King of the Forsaken, Soulless Shadow, Soul-eater, and so many more just to avoid calling him by his rightful name. Too long he must have slept, for they dishonored him with their meager attempts to declare his personage. He had vanished into mere tales of horror and myth, thousands of years leaving only fools to replace the once wise men that feared his name. Soulless he very well may be, but he was by right and by blood, Tal' Kenai, god of the suns.

It was a name the world would never again forget.

"Brahk ti' marra," he hummed to himself, stretching out his claws rigidly as he sensed the presence of those he hated most.

The gates of Xil'vallore remained closed, the home of the gods and the almighty Fate-Weavers, whose hands cradled and destroyed every life in existence. Impenetrable they declared their walls, hosted with magic deeply rooted past the age of creation to ward off all that dare venture near, but what of one born within their sacred walls? Their arrogance would be their downfall, but he could smell their fear, the way it wreaked like rancid blood. It was intoxicatingly sweet to his nostrils, the unease of his enemies and the demise they had yet to comprehend.

A chortle of laughter echoed through the empty chamber; the once grand throne room he ruled his subjects within, passing edicts and controlling his empire; reduced to the catacombs of a grave. Burgundy curtains haggardly draped the windows that bore no light, for his world had been cast into darkness long ago. Dust lay thickly on the marble floors and the creak of servants no longer haunted the halls, nothing left but his hatred and the empty chest that once bore a heart. Blood dutifully flowed through his veins, prolonging his cursed existence for the eternity they condemned him to live.

Heaving his body forward with a deft lunge, he stretched the coiled muscles of his hind legs. Talons, six from each foot, unfurled effortlessly and dug deep ravines into the marble beneath him. Their blood would soon drain eagerly like an overfilled basin and drip from his hungry mouth, tainting the earth with their treachery.

Even the night shadows could not mask his massive form, the unruly mane that crowned his head, silver like the metallic rivers of Sanore, contrasting to the obsidian eyes that possessed nothing put malice. His snout was long, two great fangs breaching his lips and stretching ominously like razors that gleamed in the hollow light of the moon, eager to pierce flesh and bone.

"Sire," a cloaked man bowed in the entrance, proceeding only at the nod of the mighty head, the two dark eyes observing him distantly.

The lion that's breadth nearly dwarfed the room, whose silver mane and dark brown fur thickly covered his elongated back and tree trunk like legs, quirked his head to the side in cynical amusement. How they let escape the key to his power was more than foolish, for within their haughty ignorance so had they sealed their fates and that of all the worlds.


End file.
